Office Policies
by Queerasil
Summary: Mythea-centric short stories centered around the lives of our two favorite government officals.
1. 1:Constants

There are few things in Anthea's life that are constant.

Her appearance doesn't change (much). She was blonde for awhile, black haired another time, and once - in a misguided adventure - she woke up with dyed pink hair. Some times - when she's feeling particularly bold - she'll change her makeup, or try on a new suit, or wear a different shirt. But she doesn't like to change her appearance too much (national security, and all that).

Her routine doesn't change much either, aside from the occasional war or assassination attempt. She makes tea (or, occasionally, coffee), kidnaps Sherlock's friends, and saves the world. It's really no big deal. Most days are quiet and repetitive, and she likes it that way.

Her boss doesn't change either. Mycroft remains an island in the middle of a troubled sea. Some days, she notices little quirks about him, like that he's unconsciously switched to using his left hand, or that he blinks more than normal. Some days, she thinks the pressure might break him, and so she stays particularly close to him that day, coming up with ridiculous excuses to be close to him. Some days he doesn't notice her, and some days he does. The good days are the ones where he does.

But everything else is subject to change.


	2. 2: Variables

Her name, (obviously). She liked the mystery and the anonymity that came with not having an official name. Indeed, it'd been so long since she'd heard her actual name that she'd forgotten what it was. But that didn't matter anymore. At the beginning of the every day, Mycroft would always say "Good morning..." and she would fill in the blank. She only wondered what she would do when she ran out of names.

What she meant to Mycroft Holmes was constantly in flux. Some days she was his secretary, others his assistant, once his bodyguard, sometimes his confidante, occasionally his caretaker - but always his friend, and always his equal.

Her personal life was just a downright chaotic disaster. Her family assumed she was unemployed, only because she got so tired of making up a new job every time she ran into one of them. Boyfriends, girlfriends, neighbors, nieces, nephews, uncles, cousins - everybody she came into contact with, really - wanted to know about her job. Most of them were assassins, or spies, or foreign agents trying to get secret information out of her.

She's a variable, Mycroft's a constant, but they get along well enough.


	3. 3: A Rose by Any Other Name

He calls her Julia the entire week he teaches her how to cook.

He calls her Roxanne when she tries to teach him how to tango, and he keeps tripping over her feet while she elegantly dances around in two-inch heels.

He accidentally calls her Love once, but they don't talk about that. (It's classified.)

He calls her Brittany when they're in Tokyo, and she insists on singing "Toxic" at a karaoke bar after drinking too much sake.

He calls her Hilda the week she makes him go running in the morning. She hates the name so much that she drops the whole idea and settles for sitting inside and watching the telly instead.

He calls her Dorothy as an inside joke on his birthday.

He calls her Abigail when she saves his life (for the third time). She doesn't ask why, but she assumes it has some special meaning to him.

He calls her Stella the night their car breaks down on the outskirts of Las Vegas and they spend all night on the roof of their expensive, broken-down limo, staring up at the stars.

He calls her Rose when they're in France, posing as tourists, exploring the magnificent gardens at Versailles.

Each name has meaning. Each name is special. But none of them are as special or as important as Anthea.

Anthea is a code word. He calls her Anthea when he's in trouble, or uncomfortable, or scared, or sad, or unhappy. Likewise, she calls herself Anthea when something is wrong. It's saved both their lives at least seven times. (Thank God for Anthea.)


	4. 4: Old Habits

Mycroft wonders why she always avoids tall buildings. He doesn't find out until they go to Seattle, and Mycroft insists on treating her to dinner at the top of the Space Needle.

It would have been lovely, if she hadn't been too busy trying not to have a panic attack.

Mycroft notices her discomfort (of course), because Mycroft notices everything. They leave early, and Mycroft apologizes by buying her ice cream and taking her for a walk in the park.

It's only later - when they're back at the hotel - that she realizes Mycroft has some problematic habits of his own.

An accidental slip of her hand that turns the lights off. Mycroft screams.

That's how she learns out that _Mycroft Holmes_ (The Ice Man, The British Government), is afraid of the **dark**.

She doesn't tell. They pretend like nothing has happened. Nothing changes, except the addition of a small, red, rocket ship-shaped night light in Mycroft's office.

It turns out that old habits don't just die hard. They're immortal.


	5. 5:DeBirthdays

For the first two-years she worked for Mycroft, he completely forgot her birthday. (Although, that wasn't really his fault, since she didn't make a big deal out of it.)

For the first two-years she worked for him, she didn't even know he _had_ a birthday. The thought that a man like Mycroft Holmes could have not existed at one point was unfathomable.

For the sake of efficiency, they decide to celebrate their birthdays on the same day. Mycroft finds a flimsy excuse to turn that day into a national holiday. They find joy in the idea that, secretly, the nation is celebrating their birthday.

Mycroft always gets her something practical and work related. She always gets him something frivolous and alarmingly fun.

Every year, they exchange one present and share a piece of chocolate cake with one candle on it. They claim it's for efficiency, but really, they just both enjoy the intimacy.


	6. 6: Standard Procedure

How she got the job is not nearly as important as why she got the job.

Sure, a lot of people said it was because of her good looks, but that simply wasn't true, because the first thing Mycroft saw when he looked at her was not her pretty face, or her figure, or the kind of makeup she wore. No. The first thing he saw when he looked at her was the barrel of a gun pointed directly at his face.

And he _laughed_. He laughed down the barrel of her gun.

"Are you Mycroft Holmes?" She asked, the gun unwaveringly pointed at his amused face.

He nodded, somewhat taken aback that she'd asked the question and that he hadn't been shot in the face yet.

They got to be good friends surprisingly quickly. They started talking and found out they had quite a bit in common. (They both liked Chopin, red over white wine, and the novels of Jules Verne.)

And Mycroft made this woman - this strange woman he'd just met who was sent to kill him - his assistant.

And it worked out perfectly.

Later, when she finally asked why he hired her, he replied simply, "Because you asked who I was."

"So?" She understand the significance of her question.

"You made sure I was the correct person. Don't you see how important that is?"

"Not really. Standard procedure," she lied.

He smirked. "Oh, nothing about you is standard. I hired you because you think like I do. Cooly, logically, and carefully, with a goal in mind. You had to make sure I was your target, because you didn't want to hurt any innocents. That's what makes you different. That's what makes you special."


	7. 7: Hands and Hearts

The first time they hold hands, it's a reflex.

Purely just a reflex.

Only a reflex.

And damn, what a reflex.

They're standing in an elevator, and all of a sudden it drops. No warning, no reason - it just drops.

The lights go off, and one of them screams (it was Mycroft), and she grabs onto his hand like it's a lifeline.

And the next second, the elevator is slowly descending again. The lights flash back on just in time for her to see a truly priceless look of terror on her boss's face,

They never speak of it again.


	8. 8: Hard of Hearing Bad at Feeling

*deaf!anthea is totally non canon but I don't give a shit.

Hard of Hearing; Bad at Feeling

Someone is trying to overthrow the British government. Must be a Tuesday.

The explosion comes out of nowhere, and when the dust clears, Mycroft is lying unconscious on the floor and Jane (her name for the day) is hovering over him, slapping his face and trying to wake him up.

The back of his head's bleeding a bit, and she suspects he has have a small concussion, but he's not in any real danger. That doesn't stop her from performing mouth-to-mouth on him (just in case).

He comes to with Jane's lips on his, and he shamelessly pretends to be unconscious for a few moments longer, just so she'll keep kissing him.

Mycroft keeps asking her if she's okay, but she doesn't hear him. She doesn't hear anything, in fact. A deep dread settles over as she realizes that she'll never hear anything again.

Noise-Induced Hearing Loss - the doctors call it. She's not sure if it has to do with the explosion that went off next to her, or the ear-bursting thumping of her heart as she kissed her boss (probably the former).

A week later, after some time off, she sits on the steps of the Diogenes Club, afraid of to go in and talk to her boss. Should she quit now and spare herself the embarrassment of being fired? But deep down in her heart she knows that she'd never be fired from her job. No, she knows the only way she gets out of this job is in a coffin.

Mycroft taps her shoulder and it startles her. She's sure she's about to be fired (or worse) when he pulls out a whiteboard and marker.

He writes in big, swooping, pompous letters,** Thank you**, and takes a shiny new phone out of his pocket. She takes the whiteboard from him and writes _A retirement gift_?

Mycroft smiles. It takes him awhile - because he's so precise and his handwriting is so damn neat - to write **Email, GPS, and internet enabled. Enough memory to store a library. Password encrypted, and every app you could ever dream of.**

_For me? _

**Who else? **

She smiles and hugs him. She instantly regrets it, because she knows how Mycroft feels about people. She gets the biggest shock when he gently wraps his hands around her waist and buries his head into her shoulder.

Later, she flips to the contacts, and sees one already added in for her: **Mycroft**.

She smiles and knows her job (and her life) are safe.


	9. 9: The Horrible Hour of World Peace

For one horrible, dreary hour in November, there was nothing wrong in the world. No wars, no bombings, no attacks, no invasions, no coups, no assassinations, not even a decent murder. Mycroft and Cassandra (her) were at a total loss of what to do. These are the events that occurred in the hour.

They raced around on office chairs.

They drank priceless, ancient wine on the roof while watching the sunset.

Cassandra discovered Mycroft's talent (luckily) for throwing knives when he practiced on her. There are holes in the wall of his office now that mark the outline of her body.

Mycroft went in the women's restroom. By accident (he claims).

Something confidential that I can only refer to as "The Sheep Incident".

Eventually, they ran out of things, and they had to face the sad truth: World peace is boring.

Luckily, a illegal military raid happen five-minutes later.

And it was back to business as usual.


	10. 10: Oysters, Pence, and Broken Men

The first time Anthea meets the younger Holmes brother, he's passed out in the basement of a drug den, seizing in agony, with a broken off needle from a syringe stuck in his arm.

She doesn't ask, but she'll sure as hell demand an explanation later. But she's been sent to collect him, and she doesn't like to disappoint.

Up until twenty minutes ago, she hadn't even known that Mycroft had any family. But when your almighty boss calls you, asking for a favor that's strictly 'off the record', it's not wise to refuse.

The picks the younger Holmes up gently in her arms (she's stronger than she looks), and carefully takes him up the stairs and out to the car. She lays him down on his side, and sits by his head, running her fingers through his dirty, mangled hair while he rambles deliriously about oysters and pence. He's a broken man, and if she had more time, maybe she could put him back together.

It occurs to her - as the younger Holmes lies there, gasping for air and trying not to choke on his own vomit - that the two brothers are very, very different people.

They drive to the hospital, and she take the younger Holmes inside, deposits him on a chair in the emergency room, and walks back to the car without another look.

The chauffeur drives her home, she pours herself a glass of wine (or five), and tries not to imagine what might be happening to the younger Holmes.

She doesn't ask. She really wants to know, but on the other hand, some secrets are best kept secret.


	11. 11: Broken and Bent

When Anthea finally does learn about the younger Holmes, she isn't surprised in the least by what she hears.

"He's brilliant - of course," Mycroft mumbles, his quiet eyes turned to the linoleum floor. The dull hospital lights make him look old and worn out, and all she wants to hug him so desperately. "That's not his fault." Mycroft sighs, looking over at his comatose brother. His eyes flicker back and forth from his brother's chest to the gently beeping heart monitor.

It doesn't look good. But then again, overdoses generally don't.

Mycroft holds his brother's hand tight, as though letting go means the end of both of them.

It breaks her heart when she has to remind him about his 11:50 conference call with Mumbai.

Slowly, shakily, Mycroft stands up and walks to the door. He sighs, looks down at his hands, and pauses.

"I would appreciate if -" Mycroft swallows thickly, as if the world choke him. "when - he wakes up, if you didn't tell him I was here."

She nods, because words fail her.

Because in the end, Mycroft really does care, and now she can see - under the dim hospital lights - just how broken both brothers are.

She takes it upon herself to fix the Holmes brothers.


	12. 12: Beyond the Call of Duty

She sets about fixing Sherlock first, because - while Mycroft might be her boss - Sherlock is certainly in a more precarious position than his elder brother.

She arranges for Sherlock to be sent to the best rehab facility she can find. Mycroft knows she's helping, of course, but he doesn't quite realize the extent that she's helping.

She takes time off to be with Sherlock through his withdrawals. She doesn't know what to expect, because apparently it's 'confidential', and she can't use her government I.D. without Mycroft finding out, and threatening the doctors doesn't seem very practical.

So she just holds him and reassures him and makes sure he's as comfortable as one can possible be when they're sweating buckets and throwing up on everything.

She sings him the same lullaby her mother used to sing to her when she was sick. Some nonsense about stars and cats and other things children like. It's the only part of the past that she'll ever reveal, and she hopes that Sherlock damn well appreciate how compassionate she is.

After that nasty business is all over, she visits him every day, and they silently sit in the windows on the fourth floor and look out onto the garden. Sometimes she makes tea or brings sweets, but she knows he really only values her company. He's doing well, but he'd be doing better if he had a real friend.

She sets out to find him one.

This is definitely not in her job description.


	13. 13: Time and Tea Sweet and Fast

She glances at her watch and prays to God that Mycroft doesn't find out about this.

Sherlock is sitting next to her in the cramped booth, his head down, mumbling nonsense to himself. This is the first time he's been outside in two-months, and it's a bit to much for him.

She checks her watch again. "Time is like tea," she thinks. "Sweet and fast."

This Sergeant fellow is late, and it really pisses her off. He was the best of a bad bunch - not a dirty cop, but willing to break the rules for the greater good.

No waiters or waitresses will come near them. She's not sure why, but she thinks it might have something to do with how Sherlock is raving to himself like a madman.

A bell rings as someone opens the door and Sherlock jumps. She settles him down with a hand on her shoulder and gets up to greet the man she recognizes instantly as Sergeant Lestrade.

She introduces herself as Madeline, because really, why not? Lestrade takes one look at Sherlocks manic form and his eyes flash with fear. If not for Madeline's smiling face, he probably would've turned tail and ran long ago.

They sit down and order coffee. Lestrade looks hesitant, but willing to listen. Madeline spends a few minutes explaining the arrangement. (Sherlock solves cases under the table, Lestrade gets all the credit, etc). Lestrade laughs, shakes his head, and gets up to leave. Madeline nudges Sherlock, who instantly spits out deductions, brutally dissecting every aspect of Lestrade's life from the car he drives to his favorite brand of cereal.

Lestrade agrees to the arrangement on one condition: As long as Sherlock stays clean, he can solve as many cases as he wants. Sherlock is hesitant, but Madeline agrees in an instant.

Afterwards, Madeline walks Sherlock back to his flat, and he thanks her for helping him. He gives her a delicate kiss in the cheek and she blushes, and Sherlock realizes in an instant what that means.

Madeline doesn't, unfortunately, so Sherlock takes it upon himself to explain it to her.

Apparently she's in love with his brother.

Now that was definitely not in her job description.


	14. 14: Deck the Halls with Bombs and Semtex

For Christmas their first year together, (Tracy) she gives Mycroft a land mine.

He loves it. He keeps it on the mantle piece until his landlord makes him remove it. To him, it is the best Christmas present ever.

The next Christmas, Mycroft gives her a cat.

She's allergic to cats.

He knows this.

It's all part of what makes Christmas fun.

The next Christmas is much, much stranger. Mycroft wakes up to find the entire ceiling throughout his house covered in mistletoe, and Bailey (her) stands there, smug as ever, and waits to be kissed.

He isn't one to disappoint.


	15. 15: Accidentally Accidental

It takes her about two-weeks to figure out Mycroft is accident prone.

It is kind of endearing. He'll be right in the middle of walking, tall and proud, as though he was the very gravity that held the earth up, and the next second, he'll be tripping over his own shoes and landing face down on the sidewalk.

She realizes (after nearly splitting her sides from laughing too hard at him tripping over a toothpick - A TOOTHPICK - that was on the ground), that this has to stop.

She buys him a cane disguised as an umbrella, and tells him it will help him keep his balance. At first he seems disgruntled and embarrassed, that is, until she tells him about the special surprise in the tip.

"Just press here," she points to a discreetly hidden bottom on the handle. "Watch." She smiles as she presses the button and a giant, two-inch needle pops out of the tip.

Mycroft's eyes light up with the light of a thousand suns. He never verbally thanks her, but his body language indicates that he's a little grateful.


	16. 16: Ring Around the DEAD

The story of how they got the rings is much less interesting than why they have the rings.

Plain, simple, gold bands worn on the fourth fingers of their right hands. Something simple, indiscreet, and terribly clever.

It seemed like a bit out of a spy movie, but really, it was all too real. In case either of them were to be captured by enemies, there was a small pill hidden in the side of the ring that would cause death a few minutes after ingestion. It was just a precaution.

Before Mycroft met Jasmine (her) he didn't mind the idea that he'd eventually have to take the pill, either by his own hand or by someone else's. He understood the risks of the job when he took it, and he knew that the possibility of him surviving more than ten-years in his current occupation were slim to none. He knew that his parents would move on, and Sherlock would eventually find someone to protect him.

The only factor he hadn't accounted for was that he might fall in love, and that that infinitesimal fact would consume his entire world.


	17. 17: Confusion is the First Step to Love

When Sherlock first met John, he'd felt exactly like Mycroft when he first met Theresa (her). Completely, universe-shatteringly, incredibly confused. And it was beautiful, because - for two men who's lives had been so orderly - it was refreshing to have something new to experience.

As their father always used to say, "Confusion is the first step to love." The meaning of that weird and paradoxical phrase had confounded Mycroft for years. Now - finally - after ages of contemplation, he knew exactly what his father meant.

Because when he'd seen that gun, he'd expected to die, and dying was so just predictable and mundane. And then the assassin had paused and asked him who he was, and that turned everything around.

Mycroft had decided long ago that nothing could be boring with her around.


	18. 18: Honorary Holmes

John walks into the flat one morning to find Anthea (is that he name?) standing next to Sherlock, the pair of them staring at a wall of grisly photographs of murder victims.

John sighs and makes tea. He'd offer Anthea something to eat, but there's nothing in the flat that's not covered in mold, blood or dust.

Anthea's name is Zoe now, and she's on lend from Mycroft to help Sherlock solve a string of sniper murders. She reminds him a lot of Sherlock, but he supposes that's from all the time she spends with Mycroft. She's sort of an honorary-Holmes.

In the end, Anthea and Sherlock solve the case with John's help. The actual way they go about this is confidential, so I'll give you the gist of it.

Sherlock finds out where the killer is hiding, figures out his motives, and provides backup.

Anthea shoots the killer in the knee to stop him from killing his next target.

John saves the killer from dying so he can live a long and happy life in prison.

And then they all go out to dinner.

On the way into the restaurant, John happens to catch a glimpse of himself in the hall mirror. He takes a good look at himself, back straight, nose stuck up in the air, and realizes something. Maybe he is an honorary-Holmes?


	19. 19: The Ice Man Gets a Cold

Frigid. Frozen. Frosty. Chilled. Icy. All words that could be used to describe Mycroft Holmes. It was ironic that he was at his warmest when he had a cold (and it's not just the fever).

The Ice Man has a cold, and it feels as if the entire world has frozen over.

He still insisted on coming into work, of course. He stomps around the office, spreading his germs to some of Britain's highest officials. He leaves a trail of tissues wherever he goes. He drinks all the tea, and eats all the pastries, and doesn't sneeze into his arm, and it's absolutely horrible.

But he's never been nicer to her. No, she doesn't sneeze on her, or get snippy at her when she misplaces his cough drops. He opens the door for her, and makes her tea with all his germs on it, and tells her how nice her hair looks.

At the end of the day, he walks her back home and gives her kiss on the cheek. It isn't like Sherlock's kiss though. It's not rash, or impulsive, or messy. It's clean, and methodical, and sophisticated like the man himself. She thanks him.

She gets a cold two days later, but she doesn't mind. She feels warmer than she ever had before (and it's not the fever).


	20. 20: Date Knight

When John Watson does finally muster up enough courage to ask her on a date, she feels she owes the man a little something for his troubles and accepts.

She spends a lot of time (too much time, really,) getting ready. It doesn't feel like she's about to go on a date. It feels more like she's about to go to a bar with one of her girlfriends. Her name is Anthea. For tonight, and only tonight, the name loses its meaning and becomes nothing more than a name.

He takes her to Angelo's, and they sit in the booth reserved for Sherlock.

John is nice, and the restaurant is nice, and the food is nice, and the music is also very nice, and she can't stand it. She misses the cool chaos of work and the hum of copiers and printers. She misses the pressure of the entire nation resting on her shoulders and the threat of imminent war and catastrophe.

She ends up talking (ranting) about Mycroft the whole time. And John - being a gentleman - sits there and nods and sips his wine carefully. At the end of her tirade, she's sure that he'll get up and leave, upset that she's talked about another man for the entire time. But no, he simply nods and starts talking about Sherlock.

And soon their gossiping, speculating, and generally jabbering on about anything to do with the Holmes boys.

She's never had more fun.

Anthea doesn't notice the CCTV camera outside of the restaurant until it's too late.


	21. 21: Drama Kings

Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes sit together voluntarily for the first time in 19 years. Neither of them is happy about it, but then again, neither of them is happy about a lot of things.

They sit, stone face and unmoving, watching the CCTV camera outside of Angelo's. Anthea spots them out of the corner of her eye, and quickly ducks behind the curtain uselessly. John notices her strange and sudden behavior and mimics it. They get up to leave a minute later, say goodbye, and go their separate ways without a second thought.

"No kiss goodnight," sneered Mycroft. He regretts it the instant he says it. Shame on him for judging someone else's happiness, especially hers. "I suppose they make each other happy..."

Sherlock is unusually quiet. He fixates at John's image as he moves offscreen and back towards their flat, as though John was a puzzle he was desperately trying to put together.

Mycroft keeps rambling on and on. He feels like a child who's just watched his crush kiss his friend. He feels devastated.

In reality, they are just being drama queens.


	22. 22: The Iceman Warmeth

It's late, and the offices at Whitehall are empty, all except the telltale glow coming from below Mycroft's office door.

Anthea knocks gently on Mycroft's door, and he doesn't answer. She sits down in front of the door and buries her head in her hands. Slowly, logically, she collects herself and starts to explaining in vivid detail the dinner her and John had. She de-romanticizes it, even though it was actually one of the funniest nights of her life (up until the last part). She makes it sound dreadfully boring, hoping that it will make him feel better.

It actually makes him feel crushingly guilty because the only - literally the only - thing he wants is for her to be happy.

When he finally comes out of his office, she gives him a hug and he apologizes for ruining her date. She laughs and he won't (can't) let go of her, so they just stand there, stuck together like the pair of oddballs they are.

It's surprising, because the Ice Man is just so warm.

...

*Note: AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW SWEETIES


	23. 23: Thursdays at Three

From that Thursday on, her and John meet at Speedy's to bitch about the Holmes brothers.

She keeps the name Anthea for John's sake. The name loses its meaning as an emergency name.

In some ways, the relationship between Sherlock and John is exactly like the relationship between her and Mycroft. They're both hopelessly, piteously, pathetically, head-over-heels in love with their respective Holmes.

But Sherlock and John are like two planets circling around each other. Her and Mycroft are like the Arctic and the Equator, distance to each other but still on the same plane.

One Thursday - after Sherlock blows up John's laptop for an experiment and Mycroft pranks Anthea by putting salt in the sugar jar - they spend the entire day trying to figure out what makes the Holmes boys tick. Anthea knows very little about their childhood, and John knows absolutely nothing at all (in fact, John wasn't even sure that Sherlock had been a child once).

Anthea finally has a friend - a real, proper friend - and it feels fantastic. Like a missing piece of her heart has been restored.

Mycroft and Sherlock seem to be spending a lot more time together too. They're both so insufferable that when you put them together they cancel each other out and become (almost) manageable.

Almost.


	24. 24: Moriarty

The first times she hears the word "Moriarty", it's something a sleep-deprived Mycroft mumbles in the car ride on the way to his home.

She assumes it's a code word for something beyond her knowledge and leaves it at that. She doesn't thinking about it again until a haggard looking Mycroft pulls her into his office and swears her to secrecy.

She's horrified - of course - at Moriarty's plan. Mycroft explains to her in vivid detail exactly how Moriarty plans to burn the heart out of him, and he explains how he's doomed Sherlock by telling Moriarty about him.

At the end of his explanation, she sits in shocked silence. It occurs to her that Mycroft doesn't need to tell her any of this, and that all this information is way about her security clearance, and that if she ever reveals as much as an iota of any of the information she's been told, that she'll probably be thrown in some small, discreet dungeon for the rest of her life.

She puts her hand on his knee, and his eyes dart quickly towards the window. "Why are you telling me this, sir?"

"Because, Anthea..." His eyes finally meet hers, and he looks truly desperate. "I need your help."

They come up with a plan.


	25. 25: Confidential

One day (just after she'd started working for him) - while borrowing Mycroft's laptop to answer her email - she finds something very, very personal in his documents folder.

She could take him down with this information. She could burn him to the core. But what's the point of burning to the core of a man who's the center of everything?

She deletes it and doesn't give it another thought.

She doesn't know that he's been watching her the whole time.

It's a test, and she's passed, but he's not surprised.

**Note: Chronologically, this takes place way the hell at the beginning of this story, but I couldn't resist adding this in! **


	26. 26: Irene

They don't talk about Irene.

After 'The Scandal', "Irene" is permanently removed from her lexicon of names.

Never mind that she broke Sherlock's heart and made all of the British government look like horny schoolboys, (no, Penelope ((she)) kind of admired that). No.

Irene was a tornado, and she had destroyed everything in her wake. Years of delicate, top-secret planning wasted. Hundreds (possibly thousands) of lives destroyed - the most important of those lives belonging to Mycroft Holmes.

Penelope wasn't normally violent person, but it still took every ounce of self-control she had not to follow that woman to the ends of the earth and destroy her.

And the worst thing was that Penelope almost admired Irene. She definitely respected her. Powerful, strong, determined, ruthless women were truly rare. Penelope liked to think that if Irene and her hadn't been enemies, that they might've gotten together for tea every Friday and talked about fun ways to topple the Patriarchy.

The last Penelope had heard of her, she'd been captured and beheaded in Karachi. It made Penelope sad to think her, dying scared and alone.

They should talk about Irene, but they don't. She's just another file downstairs now.


End file.
